Total pages in book: 176
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 167940 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 840(@200wpm)___ 672(@250wpm)___ 560(@300wpm)
I paint the picture for her as I paint her pleasure to her softly swollen clit. She keens, the extra layer of delight making her body arch and twist as she chases my feathering fingertips.
“You like the sound of that? Of being watched? Maybe I should’ve bent you over the hood of your car and fucked you there on the road.”
Her free hand drifts up to wrap around my neck, pulling my mouth down to hers. “I might’ve let you,” she whispers against my lips. “Just please don’t stop.”
I thought I was turned on before, but I guess I was wrong. The way she rocks into my touch, the sound of her need—it drives me fucking wild. I begin to regret starting this here, standing in the window, and wish I’d instead thrown her on the bed. Spread her out like a meal to feast on until nothing was left of her but sighs and bones. Yet I don’t want to stop this as the tremble in her belly echoes the knot in mine. Because I want this—the knowledge of this. The ownership of her pleasure and the feel of her coming around my fingertips.
At least, to begin with.
My cock aches as I spread her open, making a V with my fingertips, exposing the ribbon of her flesh to the night air. I begin to flick and strum until the sounds of her pleasure ring through the air, holding her there, pressed against me, until she’s twitching and spent. Her body reacts like a live wire at my final brush.
“Oh, God.” Her voice is hoarse, and her shoulders heave as she collapses forward, her palms pressed to the windowsill like the experience was altogether too much.
“If we’d fucked on the side of the road,” I murmur, bringing my mouth to her ear, relishing her shivers, “I wouldn’t have experienced the pleasure of you booking this room. I liked that.” The soft peal of her laughter vibrates through her body and into mine. Full circle, I start where we began, gathering her hair to the side to kiss her neck. “I liked that a whole lot.”
“I aim to please.” Her tone is a little amused, and her voice a little husky from her cries.
“I thought that was my line.”
“Oh, believe me, you did,” she says, her attention turning to the rain-slicked square once again. “The thought of someone watching me . . .” She frowns, maybe trying to convince herself that some things are better in fantasy than reality.
“The stars were your audience.” A tremulous shiver runs through her as I trail the backs of my fingers down her bare arm. “Only they saw you shine. And they were envious.”
“That’s very sweet,” she demurs, her attention returning to the stars beyond the glass. “Everything looks better by moonlight.”
“You are beautiful. By daylight, moonlight, even in the heart of a storm.”
“You really are a sweet talker.” She throws the playful accusation over her shoulder.
“Ask me which I like best.”
Her smile becomes a provocative lift of one brow. “How do you like me best?”
“I like it best when the storm is in you.”
FEE
Such silken words as his hand drifts to my zipper, his intent clear. He’s going to make me come again, though I doubt he knows his words have me halfway there by themselves. Who says flattery gets you nowhere? Well, whoever it was, they’re wrong.
I have never had a man make me feel like this.
This beautiful.
This wanton.
This free.
I’m going to take this evening for what it is. A gift. An act of human love, no matter how temporary. I’m not so experienced in the realms of one-night stands, given this is my very first, but it doesn’t feel as sordid or selfish or wrong as I thought it might. In fact, it feels almost like we have a kind of elemental connection.
Maybe I’m overreacting but what I do know is it feels like nothing I’ve ever experienced before.
A girl might lose her head to a man like this. I stretch like a cat at the soft susurrus of my zipper. Maybe even a little of my heart.
Along with the perception, my breath catches in my throat, yet the brush of his hands across my shoulders sweeps away the thoughts and my dress along with them. It flutters softly around my thighs, pooling around my feet. One strong arm bands my waist, his body like a cloak against mine. So much sensation. So much need.
“You’re so very beautiful.” My answer is a sigh as he presses a soft kiss to my spine, flicking the clasp of my bra loose. The straps slide down my arms, echoing the ripple through my insides.
How can you want something so much you physically ache?
A shiver of anticipation rolls down my spine as he slides the silky triangle of my underwear from my hips. Hands pressed to my shoulders, he coaxes me to turn.